


Nocturne in F# major

by pocketsfullofmice



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Hair Washing, M/M, bathtub smut, dubious consent and dubious candles, i really can't write these two without will being out of it in some way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-12
Updated: 2014-03-12
Packaged: 2018-01-15 11:35:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1303453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pocketsfullofmice/pseuds/pocketsfullofmice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Later, he'd look back at the whole thing and hate himself for missing it, and hate himself for missing the moment the world went fuzzy at the edges, and hate himself for missing the exact moment Hannibal dosed him, and hate himself for missing that it wouldn't happen again. </p><p>Later, he'd look back at the whole thing and miss the touch of Hannibal's hand, and miss the heat of the water, and miss the moment he lost himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nocturne in F# major

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thesardonicsalmon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesardonicsalmon/gifts).



Will kept his eyes shut as he felt Hannibal slip in behind him. The water was warm, turning Will's skin a bright pink, the tub deep enough for him to sit in comfortably with the water up to his chest. He didn't understand the point of baths for the most part- he functioned fine with a shower- but Hannibal could be incredibly insistent and, to some degree, manipulative. 

When Hannibal had kept pressing the issue, and Will had felt his resolve start to give, he'd laid down some ground rules. Firstly, Hannibal couldn't join him in the bath. He could be present, but Will wanted to be in the water alone. Secondly, he wanted to keep his decency. He'd suggested he wear his swimming trunks, but Hannibal had shot that idea down. They'd compromised with a large frothing of bubbles, that Will felt ridiculous (the damn things were getting up his nose), but it was something. And finally, Hannibal had to remain dressed. Maybe not in his full suit-and-tie get up, but Will already felt uncomfortable with his psychiatrist being naked in the same room as him. He had to wear something.

Later, he'd look back at the whole thing as not merely crossing, but leaping over professional, medical lines.

Later, he'd look back at the whole thing and realise he'd been drugged.

There was some kind of strange scented oil burning, smelling faintly like sandalwood, and Will eyed the candle burner at the end of the tub opposite him with suspicion. This whole relaxation thing was making him uneasy. Although the froth covered everything from the chest down, he still felt exposed. Pulling his knees up to his chest, he sucked in a breath as he felt Hannibal's toes brush against his bare ass. He trusted the man, he did, but that didn't mean he was welcome in the tub.

'I thought I told you- '

'I'm still dressed,' Hannibal interrupted smoothly. Will could hear the smile in his voice. 'And I'm not joining you in the bathtub. I'm merely assisting in your relaxation technique.'

Clenching his jaw, Will remained still as he heard Hannibal wet his hands behind him. The water rippled, the light dancing on the walls. It was dim in the bathroom; it wasn't just candlelight- that would have been too bizarre- but the lights had been turned down low. It was all stone walls and floors, the bath a polished marble. It looked and felt expensive. The towel rack was heated, as was the floor. Will had felt uncomfortable taking his clothes off and leaving them in a pile in the corner, as though he was soiling the room with his presence. 

'Now relax. Take a breath and shut your eyes. Are your eyes closed?'

Sighing, Will rolled his eyes and closed them. The candle had burned into his vision and he felt it flickering behind his lids. 

' _Yes_ , Dr Lecter, they're shut,' he drawled.

'Good. Now I want you to feel your breath filling your body. Feel it expand your chest and stomach. Feel it open you up. Feel your breath fill your body, entering each limb.' 

As Hannibal spoke, Will felt, rather than heard, him move. His hand went over his hair, as though giving a warning, before warm water trickled down.

'I want you to imagine your breath finding any intrusive and nagging thoughts as you inhale, and as you exhale, it removes them from you. With each breath in, it finds something that bothers or upsets you, and with each breath out, it takes it away.'

More water ran over Will's head, making him shiver. A scowl crossed his face and he huffed, tightening his grip around his knees. Fine. Deep breath in, he could do that. Like a balloon in his chest, filling it up and letting the air out, right. He attempted to focus on Hannibal's soft instructions, the hand in his hair seeming to coax his attention, but he couldn't get past the fact that he was naked and Hannibal was- at least to some degree, though he didn't know how far- undressed behind him.

Breath in. Okay, imagine the breath shooting through his limbs like a snake- no, no, not a snake. Like a- like a what? Stick of glue? Right, catching the thoughts and removing them from him. Or... a balloon in his chest. Static electricity? 

'How are you doing, my dear Will?'

'I'm trying to get rid of my discomfort, and yet you're still here.'

Hannibal laughed. It was a strange sound, a twisted chuckle that seemed to surprise the man. Will snorted, a faint smile touching the corner of his lips and kept his head down.

'Very well. If you could sit up, Will, for me,' he said, a hint of mirth still in his voice.

With a groan, Will let go of his legs and straightened his back. His feet slid along the bath until his legs were stretched out. His eyes were still closed, a hint of anxiety still on his face. Setting his jaw firmly, he remained tense as water was poured directly over his head. It seemed like Hannibal had filled up a cup, a jug, or something similar. 

'I recommend leaning back. Here- ' Hannibal laid a hand on Will's shoulder and guided him backwards until he was resting against the man's leg. His shin was bare, his foot wedged under Will's ass. 'Comfortable?'

'As I'll ever be,' Will sighed.

There was a click behind him, and he felt Hannibal run his hands through his hair. Shampoo. Will could smell it, the soft hint of vanilla and coconut wafting in the air. His toes curled slightly (he loved the smell of vanilla, the way it soothed him when nothing else did), and he leant back a little further. Hannibal's fingers were firm in the way they pressed against his skull, though not necessarily hard or demanding. He rubbed his fingers in small circles, firstly over his temples and then down, along his hairline to the base of his skull. A faint noise came from Will, his head falling forward as Hannibal's fingers pressed against his neck.

'Do you carry a lot of tension in your neck and shoulders?' 

Will grunted. 'Maybe.'

Humming, Hannibal ran his fingers back through Will's hair. It really was relaxing. His limbs felt heavy and sluggish, the tension very slowly melting from him. Breathing in deeply, he kept his head back as he felt the warm water run over his head, Hannibal very slowly washing out the shampoo.

The bubbles around him teased his skin, popping and tickling him. Breathing in deeply, he ran his foot along the bath, his fingers twitching slightly. He didn't want to relax too much- and he really wasn't. He was still aware of what was going on, still keeping his mind alert, but he was just... settling. Getting comfortable. It was the hot water, that had to be it. It was calming him easing his muscles and slowing his heart rate. That was all.

'When was the last time you indulged yourself, Will?'

The question drew Will from his reverie. 'Huh?' 

Blinking his eyes open, he tilted his head back. He could just see Hannibal's shoulder, the side of his face. The clear plastic of a jug filled with water that slowly drizzled over his head. Hannibal didn't seem to be wearing a shirt, and though Will knew it ought to be upsetting him, he couldn't really bring himself to care. 

There was a snap of a lid, and Hannibal turned back. Looking straight down at Will, he tilted his head and ran his hands through his hair. Conditioner. It smelt of honey and oranges, the scent tickling his nose like the bubbles on his skin. Hot summers with toast drizzled with honey, sitting out on his front porch and watching his dogs run about. The hum of cicadas and other insects. Sniffing, he kept his eyes on Hannibal, watching him. There was a faint intensity in Hannibal's gaze, a concentration. His fingers combed through his hair, once again easing out the tension.

It was wonderful. Letting out a slow breath, he settled down, letting the scents drift over him.

'Relax,' Hannibal murmured, his voice cutting through the quiet. 'Focus on my hands. My voice. Don't fret if your mind wanders. Minds do that. Minds think. But simply relax and rest.'

Relax and rest. He could do that. The bath really was comfortable, and Hannibal was a sturdy presence behind him. Sliding down, he tilted his head backwards against Hannibal's shin as the water was poured over him. The man took his time washing the conditioner from Will's hair, running his fingers through his curls until he was satisfied. 

Without a word, his hands slid down to Will's neck, where they pressed slightly. A faint noise came form Will- it could be a moan, but he ignored that possibility and instead decided it was just a grunt. He really did carry a lot of tension in his neck. He couldn't let anxiety roll off his back like others could. He held onto it, carried it and let it fill his free moments. It was impossible to have a relaxing shower (or bath) when crime scenes followed him home and slept beside him.

'How's this?' Hannibal asked softly. His hands had moved to Will's shoulders. His thumbs pressed into the taut muscle, easing the knots.

'Mm-hmm.' Will merely nodded, his lips parting slightly as Hannibal worked over his arms. 

He didn't want to relax this much, he didn't want to fall this far. 

Later, he'd look back and realise the drugs had started to take effect by this point.

But it was so calming, to be touched like he was, to feel Hannibal's hands moving down to his pectorals. Even though it hurt slightly- pain from overcompensating for his gun stance, he supposed- he still gave a faint moan and let his hands fall to his sides. He felt the water move, exposing his nipples to the warm air.

'Does that hurt?' Hannibal asked, pressing slightly firmer.

'A little,' Will admitted softly.

'Does it feel good?'

Will hesitated. His lips parted, his back straining ever so slightly. 'Yes?'

It did. It felt fantastic, his back arching upwards as Hannibal's fingertips pressed into his chest. He didn't mind sitting in the bath, with the froth slowly disappearing, he didn't mind Hannibal's knee pressing into the back of his head. 

Hannibal's fingernail raked against Will's nipple, eliciting a soft gasp from him. It could have been an accident. It could have meant nothing, but it sent a shiver down his spine, it made a hot flame curl low in his belly. It seemed like Hannibal was everywhere; he felt him move, he felt his breath touch his cheek.

' _Relax_.'

All Will could do was gurgle in response. His head lolled to the side, his cheek pressing against Hannibal's knee. His hips rolled somewhat, upwards, seeking for friction that wasn't there. Hannibal's hands moved down, over his sternum and to his belly, and back up, never dipping far below the water, never further than his navel. It was frustrating, Will starting to keen up to try and get Hannibal to brush his fingers over his length.

Dragging his nails back up, Hannibal started again back at his shoulders. Down he rubbed, back over Will's loosening pectorals, against his sternum, deliberately missing his overly-sensitive nipples. Across his ribcage tracing his floating ribs and over his sides, sliding feather-light across his belly and once more back up.

When Will came, it was with a hiccup, his foot kicking out with enough force to extinguish the candle at the end of the bath. One hand came up to desperately clutch at Hannibal's upper arm, gasping out a moan.

Hannibal continued to gently stroke his fingertips over Will's chest, soothing him until he slowly came back to himself. Small keening noises came from him as he blinked his eyes up at Hannibal, a soft blush on his cheeks. 

'Relaxed?'

' _No_ ,' Will huffed. He had been, for a moment. Now he was just embarrassed.

Chuckling, Hannibal ran his wet hand over Will's brow. 

'Take your time getting out of the bath; the heat may make you dizzy,' he said softly. 'I'll check on you in a few minutes.'

Nudging Will up, he stood. Will finally saw him in a pair of boxers, the hem slightly damp. He stepped out of the tub, Will watching him with wide eyes and a shiver. Rubbing the back of his neck, he glanced back down at the soapy water. Most of the bubbles had disappeared, revealing his pale, naked body. Rubbing his arm, he took in a deep breath and started to pull himself from the tub.

As he stepped out, stumbling only slightly, he heard the door open. Hannibal came in with a soft, fluffy robe and helped Will into it. 

'I'd like you to join me in my bedroom. I still feel we have some work to do. Don't you agree?'

Will nodded. He swayed as he watched Hannibal pull the plug from the tub and snuff out the last candles. Shutting his eyes, he let out a slow breath and settled into the man when he put an arm around his shoulders.

Later, he'd look back at the whole thing and a part of him would wish he could experience it again.


End file.
